


lowercase_stars

by Cas_tellations



Category: Dodie Clark - Fandom, Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: (thx to my dog who kept me company for many nights whilst i looked at the stars), Angst, But this, DAN AND PHIL - Freeform, I Blame Tumblr, I Tried, I think that those walks are what inspired this, I'm Sorry, M/M, Phan - Freeform, Phan Fluff, Phan Smut, Sadly, Stars, also side note:, bc i Really hate it, but i am quite sorry that it's so fucking poetic, calm down @ the emo side of me, dodie clark - Freeform, fucking running around cities at night is probs the best thing ever, have fun reading this, have i ever said how much i hate writing dialog?, i have a hard time sleeping so i always take my dog out for a walk at like 1am, i think that i actually really like this one, i was told to try and make this fluffy but i dont think that it worked, idk it just is, ok but really, ok i should go now, okay but seriously i /did/ try, some poeticness is fine, there's 412 commas in this wtf am i doing, this is too much, too much poetry, um, v pretentious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-08 09:45:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8839816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cas_tellations/pseuds/Cas_tellations
Summary: Dan's mind is stuck in the sky, infatuated by the stars, Phil's the one who keeps him on the ground."Dodie and Phil are waiting for him under the amber glow of a streetlamp in front of the 24-hour coffee shop. They’re used to him being late, used to the brown-eyed boy being too caught up in the universe to have any time to even remotely care about the people who he’s supposed to be doing things with. They don’t blame him. They, too, can see into the vastness of the universe and get stuck in how it looks. But Dan is the only one who actually physically cannot look away. Phil says something about Dan being late and Dodie hums a quiet tune under her breath. It’s just after 2am but it’s the best time to be awake."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi hi hi hello i have written this thing, it's a secret santa gift for Emilia, so i hope u like it.
> 
> (this is my story, as it is whilst writing, i destroyed most of the dialog. It's mine, which is why it's alright to do that. Don't shit on me just because I haven't used These guys "", i know what im doing and this is how i did it)
> 
> okok pls enjoy it bc i really liked writing it and im quite proud of how it turned out

 

 

 

 

The stars were like ice, freezing his heart into one of cold, frosting over the warmth of his soul and turning it into an unresponsive wasteland of broken memories and lost thoughts. A wasteland that is the closest thing to home that he has.

 

His gaze is filled with shadows, watching the night and the sky intertwined into a masterpiece that’s beyond human comprehension.

 

The stars are part of him, encasing his body in their beauty and capturing his eyes in the way they flit across the sky.

 

The streetlamps of the city have faded into the background, nonexistent in the bubble that is around him and the stars, the planets and the asteroids all floating in a void.

 

The ethereal lights bring up just enough light to see by, the sun reflecting upon the moon aiding him to see what the stars did not allow him to.

 

His lips are chapped and pale, his brown eyes soft but glazed over, his mind a genius but thick with exhaustion, running on little to no sleep. He wants to stay in the field, hearing the long grass swish in the slight breeze. But he can’t.

 

He gives the sky one last glance before turning around and walking back through the trees, towards civilisation.

 

Dodie and Phil are waiting for him under the amber glow of a streetlamp in front of the 24-hour coffee shop. They’re used to him being late, used to the brown-eyed boy being too caught up in the universe to have any time to even remotely care about the people who he’s supposed to be doing things with.

 

They don’t blame him. They, too, can see into the vastness of the universe and get stuck in how it looks. But Dan is the only one who actually physically _cannot_ look away.

 

Phil says something about Dan being late and Dodie hums a quiet tune under her breath.

 

It’s just after 2am but it’s the best time to be awake, mostly because then everybody else is asleep but then there’s that added bonus of everything _looking_ so much better.

 

The darkness, ironically, holds so much more to see than during the daytime when everything is being lit up by the sun.

 

Thoughts come harder during the day and speaking becomes so much more difficult. During the night, you can be free. There’s no boundaries. It _feels_ so much better.

 

Phil catches Dan staring up at the sky, his mouth slightly open, his eyes wide with wonder. He represses a smile and taps Dan’s shoulder, drawing his attention away from the speckled sky.

 

He tells Dan to stay on the ground with them where he won’t get lost and Dan nods his head in unsaid agreement, keeping his gaze downcast enough to keep the stars just out of his vision.

 

They go into the coffee shop, ‘ _Mugs Coffee’_ the sign outside declared it’s name.

 

The owner of the shop, Ellise, isn’t expecting them. They hadn’t been in for months. Life had gotten to them and their old ways were washed away like the stars when the sun came out.

 

But she still remembers the drinks that they always got and starts making them, watching with an eerie deja vu as the three of them went to go sit at their regular booth, Dodie instantly sitting criss-cross-applesauce and  doodling song lyrics mindlessly onto a napkin, leaving Dan to look out the window with a longing that never failed to shock her, and Phil, taking out his laptop and trying to get the words from his head to go into a story that makes some sort of sense to the readers. Occasionally, he’d tap dan’s shoulder with his fingertips and Dan would spin around in his seat, fear flaring up in his eyes but dying back down as soon as he saw that it was Phil, proceeding to look over the words that his friend had written.

 

Dodie was the quieter one, deciding to keep her thoughts stuck in the songs that she wrote, but when she did talk, it was with intelligence and wit that many people lacked.

 

They were a funny little group of people, but some of the most interesting at the same time. Dan’ heart is stuck in the sky and Phil’s is frozen in the words and Dodie’s is swept away by the music.

 

Tea, a coffee and a caramel macchiato.

A late-night conversation.

A starlit sky.

A ukelele, softly playing.

A hum, eventually turning into a song.

A hand, softly tracing between the diamonds in the sky.

A pair of blue eyes, blinking though glasses.

A tap on a shoulder and his eyes refocusing.

 

Nobody comes to coffee shops late at night, or rather early in the morning. Phil thinks they’re missing out. It’s quiet, so quiet.

 

But not bad, not uncomfortable.

 

It’s a soft quiet, a welcoming quiet.

 

It’s a writer’s quiet. A quiet that keeps the mind blocks away and the monsters in his brain at bay. It’s a quiet and a darkness that lets him see properly, through the lense of his glasses.

 

Ellise brings them their drinks with a small smile on her face. Phil gives her the money, and Dan burns his tongue on his coffee, a looks of discomfort passing over his face before he looked back out the window, the stars washing away the sharp burning hurt.

 

_Tap, tap._

 

Dan’s back on earth and Dodie’s humming again, flicking through her phone.

 

Dan’s eyes find Phil’s, _‘Stay on the ground and don’t get lost.’_

 

Dan wishes that he could but it’s hard sometimes.

 

He hopes that Phil understands, and Phil does, to some extent.

 

He leans over Phil’s shoulder to catch a glimpse of his writing, but instead is met with a blank word document.

 

There’s no stories yet, Phil tries to explain, shaking his head.

 

Write about the the stars, Dan offers, tilting his head to the side.

 

Write about your feelings, Dodie pipes up, locking her phone and laying it off to the side.

 

But that’s not a _story_ , Phil insists, running a tired hand through his hair.

 

It doesn’t need to be a story, Dodie says.

 

Dan’s mind wanders and his face turns toward the window.

 

Dodie sips at her tea, she suggests writing song lyrics between paragraphs of what the song lyrics mean to him but Phil says that it sounds too much like school work and refuses.

 

_Tap, tap._

 

Stay here, Phil says gently, turning his laptop screen towards Dan, write something, he says.

 

Dan’s fingers hover over the keyboard before they start typing, almost of their own accord.

 

He’s no poet. His words never come along with the ease or beauty that Phil’s and Dodie’s do.

 

127 words then he stops. His gaze flickering over what he just wrote. He pushes the laptop back to Phil and his eyes skim over it.

 

He smiles, giggling softly.

 

Do you like it, Dan asks, his voice timid and soft.

 

I love it, Phil replies.

 

He adds more to Dan’s writing, continuing what little words Dan was able to get down.

 

987 words and he pauses, biting on the skin on the inside of his thumb, a bad habit. He turn the laptop so that if faces Dodie and she brushes her short brown hair out of her eyes before reading the words of the two boys.

 

She smiles to herself when she reaches the end, her fingertips finding the keys with such ease as she continued the words in the document.

 

1,245 then she stops, turning it back to face Phil.

 

He reads it over, his face portraying emotions. Too many of them. She can’t read them fast enough. She’s pretty sure that Dan would be able to see what Phil’s thinking but his mind is lost out the window again. She doesn’t try catching his attention, it seems cruel, almost, to take him away from something that he can be _that_ transfixed on.

 

Phil doesn’t add any more words. He saves the document under ‘Untitled (57)’ and shuts the laptop.

 

_Tap, tap._

 

I’m here, Dan says, but his eyes prove him to be lying, as they’re cold and encased in galaxies.

 

Stay here, Phil says, but he knows that Dan won’t. Dan can’t, his life is with the stars, they are, in some way, a part of who he is.

 

By the time they leave dawn is already touching the horizon and Ellise looks like she’s about to drop dead, she’s so tired.

 

They’re all tired, but they’re used to it.

 

Life isn’t waiting for them to get a good 8 hours worth of sleep. Life is screaming at them to get the fuck up and _do_ something.

 

The lyrics are scribbled haphazardly onto napkins that are later used to wipe up the caramel macchiato that Phil spilled, dodie’s words washed away by a mistake that Phil made.

 

By the time that they leave, dawn is touching the horizon, lighting up the world with a soft blue glow.

 

Dodie wants to go home because her parents will be awake soon and she doesn’t want them to be mad at her but both Dan and Phil want to stay out longer because it’s that last time that they’ll all be together for a long time, as both Dan and Phil starts university the next day and will be moving with together to a flat closer to the school, leaving Dodie behind to finish her A-levels.  

 

Dan wasn’t sure what he wanted to do yet. He’d enrolled in a few courses at the same university that Phil had said he was going to, but he still wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with his future.

 

Phil would be doing English Language and Linguistics, as well as some other writing things, and then would hopefully go on to accomplish his goal of becoming an author.

 

Dodie wanted to do things with music, that much she knew.

 

One last night, Phil practically begged, lacing his fingers into Dodie’s and tugging her along a thin winding road, a road that would eventually lead out of the city and into a small wooded area, where Dan had been just a few hours ago, so that they could sit by the edges of the clearing and watch the stars as the sun took them over.

 

Dan trailed along behind, breathing in the chill morning air.

 

When they got there, Dodie resumed her usual position of sitting criss-cross-applesauce with her ukelele out, making up songs to fit her thoughts. Phil stretched out on his back, letting the dewy grass soak through his light T-shirt, staring at the sky.  Dan sat down beside Dodie, humming along to the ukulele.

 

She smiled softly and played a bit harder, putting a little more thought into it.

 

Phil recognised the tune. Sick of Losing Soulmates. He wanted to reassure her that he and Dan would always be around, that she wasn’t losing them, but he couldn’t pluck up the courage because nobody knew what was going to happen. Maybe she would lose them. Maybe they’d lose each other and end up living life  like normal people, even though that was one of the very few things that they were trying their hardest to avoid.

 

Dan picks up the lyrics, singing it ever so softly, his eyes trained on the rapidly-fading stars in the sky;

 

_What a strange being you are,_

_God knows where I would be if you hadn’t found me,_

_Sitting all alone in the dark._

 

Phil can see Dan shuffling closer to Dodie and slinging an arm around her shoulder, letting her rest against his side.

 

She doesn’t break into tears - she’s stronger than that.

 

When the song is over, she puts her ukulele to the side and just sits there, Phil abandons his position on the dewy grass and goes to sit beside Dan and Dodie.

 

Together, for the very first last time, they watched as the sun touched the treetops with it’s rays, the stars disappearing completely to make room for the light.

 

The moon was still there, but difficult to see though the sun's brightness.

 

I’m going to miss this, Dodie confesses when they get up to leave.

 

Me too, Dan agrees fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt as they follow Phil back to the trail, eventually making it back to their houses.

 

Neighbors, ever since year five, now torn apart.

 

Dan’s parents are waiting in the driveway, they’d be driving Dan and Phil up to their new flat together.

 

A constellation, but now two of the three stars were going away, leaving the third lost and frozen in time while they wait to be reunited again.

 

Mr and Mrs Howell were used to the three of them coming back in the early hours of the morning, as the sneaking out had started when Dodie was just 12, and the boys were 14.

 

She hugs them both fiercely, then watches as they climb into the backseat of the car and pull away.

 

Still, she doesn’t cry.

 

She just steels herself and plays music refusing to think about life’s flaws.

 

-

 

It’s December and snow is lightly dusted over their whole world, turning it into a wonderland of some sorts. They’re going home for Christmas, in a week.

 

But until then, their lives are taken over by school.

 

Phil’s taking a handful of English courses whilst Dan took a little bit of everything, still unsure of what his future held for him.

 

-

 

Dan sat on the couch in the Cafe, his side pressed up against Dodie, an arm slung across her shoulders, she leaned on him heavily, soaking up his comfort. Twilight touched the sky outside the window, drawing Dan in, but he steels himself and stays on earth with his friend.

 

Dan had come home early. He couldn’t deal with school, so he had left. He hadn’t told Phil or any of his teacher and he knew that people would be worrying but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

 

Dodie asks Dan if he wants to go for a walk to see the sky, and he agrees right away, leading the way out of the Cafe and down the street, running a hand through his hair absentmindedly, feeling Dodie’s presence by his side, urging him on.

 

He breaks into a run, feeling to cool air stream around his face.

 

The lights from the shops along the street along with the streetlamps, lit their way.

 

Dan held his arms out from his sides, the wind playing it’s way through his fingertips and straight to his heart.

 

Dodie’s running along behind  him, her heart racing in time to his.

 

Dan slowed to a walk as they crossed the road, his energy eating away at him.

 

He just wanted to _run,_ as if he ran far and fast enough, his future wouldn’t catch up with him.

 

His phone’s ringing but he’s ignoring it, stepping out onto a deserted street and walking on the yellow line in the centre of it. Dodie follows without question, humming quietly under her breath as she follow.

 

He stops then, in the middle of a road, houses stretching out all around them, holding life of those who were asleep. He lays down, staring up at the sky. The streetlamps blocked out the majority of the stars, but there were still a few strong ones shining through the atmosphere, shocking Dan in the best way.

 

Dodie sits cross-legged beside him, fishing her iPhone out of her pocket and taking multiple photos of the starstruck boy and their surroundings, capturing the bits of smoke escaping from a passer by’s mouth, from the cigarette that he held in his hand and the freezing air alike.

 

There’s no clouds tonight, Dan states, tilting his head to meet Dodie’s eyes.

 

Dodie nods, snapping another picture and grinning down at the brown-haired boy.

 

-

 

I didn’t know where you were, Phil said, glaring at Dan.

 

I was fine, Dan protested, leaning forwards to try and hug his friend.

 

Phil steps back, not allowing Dan to touch him. He doesn’t miss the hurt look that flashed across Dan’s face, but chooses not to acknowledge it.

 

Dan masks the pain with anger and turns away from Phil, ignoring his protesting voice and texting Dodie quickly to ask if she was up for a walk that night.

 

-

 

I don’t know how I feel, Dan said softly, taking a piece of the white chalk from Dodie’s hand and doodling on the pavement by his side.

 

You feel something, Dodie states, looking towards the horizon where the sun is rising.

 

Yes, Dan agrees.

 

Tell him, Dodie urges.

 

I can’t, Dan says, his voice barely a whisper.

 

Dodie sighs but doesn’t push. She tells Dan she has to leave because school starts in a matter of hours and she doesn’t want to be late. She says that Dan should go back to the flat that he shares with Phil and actually attend a few classes at school for once, because maybe being productive would make him feel better. She leaves the tin of chalk behind, letting Dan draw designs into the pavement with the sun rising behind him.

 

She takes a picture of the scene before turning and walking home.

 

-

 

Dan drops the chalk off at Dodie’s house before he catches a bus to go back to school. Behind him, he leaves a mess of small white stars scratched into the pavement with the chalk.

 

-

 

I didn’t think you’d be back, Phil says when he hears Dan opening their front door.

 

I don’t have anywhere else to go, Dan reminds him.

 

That’s never stopped you before, Phil reminds him. But I am glad that you’ve come back, he adds to the end.

 

Phil opens his arms for a hug, and Dan falls into them grateful, bawling up the front of Phil’s T-shirt in his fists and pressing himself as close to the taller boy as possible.

 

I’m sorry, Dan apologizes.

 

Phil reassures him that it’s okay. That everything’s okay.

 

Neither of them think that everything’s okay, though. Because Dan’s head is still stuck up in the stars and there’s nothing on earth that urges him to stay. There’s nothing to hold him there steadily. Nothing tangible. There’s no home. They both know that he will never be happy with whatever future he’s reaching for right now.

 

-

 

They were back home for Christmas, the first time since the summer that Dan, Phil and Dodie had all been together. She hugs them both when she sees them.

 

The Cafe is just how it has always been during the winter season, decorated for the holidays but not overwhelmingly so.

 

Dodie suckes on a candy cane, talking to Phil whilst Dan is staring out the window, watching the snowflakes fall from the sky, piling themselves upon the ground.

 

His gaze is full of stars, even though the sky is void of them, housing the clouds thick with snow instead of the unusual diamonds.

 

-

 

They’re at a Christmas party with their families at Phil’s house, and every relative is asking Dan about where he thinks he is going to be in the future. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know where his future is going or if he has a future. He doesn’t even know what he’s doing right now, how the fuck is he supposed to know what’s going to be happening in the future?

 

He slips away with a muffled; sorry I have to go.

 

Phil’s room is empty when he walks into it, shutting the door behind him and curling up on his friend’s bed and burying his head in the blue-and-green pillow, trying to block out the nagging anxiety in the back of his head, telling him things that weren’t true.

 

He wishes that the clouds would clear and show him the stars, but the snow fell down with fury, blocking out what Dan needed to see the most at that moment.

 

Phil notices that Dan’s missing from the crowd some time later. He pushes his way past everyone, knowing that with the cloud cover, the only place that Dan could go for peace was Phil’s room.

 

He sighs when he sees Dan’s huddled form on the bed. He leaves the light off and quietly steps across the room, sitting on the edge of the bed.

 

Talk to me, Phil whispers through the room.

 

Dan lets out a little whimper but doesn’t articulate his feeling any farther than that.

 

Phil turns towards Dan, laying down and wrapping an arm around Dan’s waist. He smiles a bit when Dan automatically shuffles forwards and presses his face against Phil’s chest, breathing in Phil’s farmilar scent.

 

-

 

The day that Dan drops out of university is not a good one. Granted, he has barely attending even half his classes anyway, but still.

 

He goes back to his parents house and watches the stars with Dodie, trying to figure out what he wanted to do with his future.

 

She tells him that he should do whatever he can do to be happy, but he’s not sure how to be happy anymore.

 

-

 

Dan calls Phil without thinking. It’s a natural reflex by now.

 

They talk for hours, and even then, Dan doesn’t want to hang up when Phil says that he’s got to go because he has a class now.

 

He walks into the forest, sitting with his back against a tree and watching the little birds hopping around on the dew-covered ground. A few come frighteningly close to him, but back off when they realize that he’s a human.

 

He doesn’t feel like a human, however. He feels like paper. A paper doll surviving amongst the living. His breaths don’t feel like his lungs are working and his heart beat feels like glass, ready to shatter in an instant.

 

-

 

I miss you, Phil says one day in the middle of a phone call.

 

Dan’s not sure how to respond so he stays silent.

 

Phil says that he has to go a minute later, even though they both know that he has nowhere that he needs to be.

 

-

 

Dan doesn’t tell Phil that he’s coming home, he just shows up. But Phil’s at a class so Dan makes hot chocolate and opens up his laptop, scrolling through tumblr while he waits for Phil to come back.

 

Phil’s surprised to see Dan there when he gets back, but hugs him tightly nonetheless.

 

Dan fell asleep in Phil’s arms that night, thinking, for once, that maybe things didn’t have to be as complicated as his mind told them to be.

 

-

 

Nearly a year had passed, and Dan was curled up on the couch at the parent’s house, his head on Phil’s lap, feeling Phil’s fingers gently playing with his hair, peace taking over him for the first time in ages.

 

It’s almost Christmas, Phil reminds him, breaking the silence with his voice.

 

Hopefully it’ll be better than last year, Dan giggles.

 

Phil agrees with him quietly, remembering the night they had spent together curled up on Phil’s bed, trying their best to ignore the relatives voices drifting up from downstairs, when Phil had whispered a quiet ‘Merry Christmas’, to Dan’s sleeping form

 

Let’s go for a walk, Dan says suddenly, a matter of minutes later.

 

It’s late, Phil protests. He doesn’t want to go outside into the freezing cold weather.

 

C’mon, Dan whined, sitting up and grabbing Phil’s hand, fully prepared to drag his friend outside if he refused to come freely.  

 

Phil rolls his eyes but follows Dan as he leaves the house, stepping out into the night.

 

Dodie should be with us, Phil says as they walk past her house.

 

Dan nods along with him, but doesn’t add any more words to the thought.

 

Dodie had moved. Three hours away, so it wasn’t like they never got to see her, but it still stung.

 

The snow on the ground is only partly melted, leaving behind puddles of slush, cascading in every direction when Dan stomps his feet through them

 

Phil doesn’t need to tap Dan’s shoulder anymore when he looks skywards because Dan’s been staying on the ground lately, for better or for worse.

 

Dan shivers against the cold, shifting a bit closer to Phil, a bit closer to warmth. Phil took the hint and slid an arm around Dan’s waist, pressing their sides together.

 

Dan laughs airily, leaning into him impulsively.

 

He feels like he might be enough. Like this life that he had right here, right now, was enough. It was enough to stay on the ground, like it was worth all the pain that came with the future.

 

-

 

It was just like last year. People crowding into the Lester’s too-small house, making it seem even more cramped than usual. Dan wished that he could go to the stars, because in the sky, everything was so far apart.

 

_Tap, tap._

 

Dan spins around, his gaze filled with Phil.

 

You alright?, He asks softly, not catching the attention of anyone else.

 

Dan shrugs, not having the energy nor motivation to articulate how he was feeling properly.

 

He dissipates into the crowd a minute later, out of the view of a certain black-haired boy.

 

-

 

It’s much later when Phil finds Dan again, sitting outside with a bottle of wine clutched in his hands, staring down at the clear liquid instead. He takes a sip from the bottle, not glancing up to meet Phil’s eyes.

 

Phil doesn’t ask if Dan’s alright. Because by all definition, he’s not alright.

 

He just sits next to the drunk younger boy, pressing their sides together as if to offer him support. He tries to pry the liquor out of his hands, but Dan’s grip is strong, and he pulls back.

 

I didn’t like being around all those other people, Dan slurs, taking another sip.

 

Dan leans harder against the older boy, taking strength from him.

 

It’ll get better, Phil says, turning his head so that his lips brushing over Dan’s slightly curly hair.

 

What’ll get better? Dan asks, The social anxiety or life in general?

 

Everything?, Phil phrases his word like a question.

 

I can’t do this anymore, Dan admits, tilting his head to meet Phil’s eyes.

 

You can’t do what anymore? Phil asks softly.

 

Living, Dan practically spits. It sends a shiver down Phil’s spine, and not in a good way. He almost screams about how he wishes it would get better, wishes that life would just decide his own fate, instead of leaving him alone to muddle through everything. Phil tries to break in to tell Dan that even if he doesn’t think of himself as someone who means more than nothing, other people _do._

 

He lets Dan vent his feelings until his throat is sore and the bottle is empty. He helps Dan into bed later, watching his tear-streaked face fall asleep in a matter of seconds.

 

-

 

Their flat by the university isn’t very large, but it seems to grow smaller and smaller every time they entered it. The couch seemed to be pressed up to the TV and the kitchen seemed to be only a foot wide, the doorways looked like they were closing in on the rest of the flat, squeezing everything together until nothing was left and everyone ran out of air.

 

Dan’s half asleep when Phil comes home after a night out with some friends. He had been re-watching Death Note, drinking hot chocolate and quietly scrolling though tumblr whilst he waited for Phil to come back.

 

Phil greeted him softly, settling down beside him on the sofa. His slightly-tipsy mind allowed him to cuddle close to Dan, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and hooking his ankle around one of Dan’s. Dan didn’t bother pushing him away, in fact, he pulled him closer still. It was soft and gentle, no words needed to be spoken to express what they were feeling.

 

Dan’s movements are clumsy with sleep as he untangles himself from Phil a minute later, turning so that he was straddling Phil’s lap, letting his hands lace themselves together behind Phil’s neck, pushing himself forewards so that his whole body was leaning heavily against Phil’s chest, his head buried in the crook of Phil’s neck. He feels Phil’s fingers trailing up and down his back, pulling him as close as possible with the lightest touch imaginable.

 

Dan’s not sleepy anymore. Phil’s touches, however light, feel like electricity running through every inch of his body, making him press his face harder into Phil’s neck, trying not to squirm in Phil’s hold. Phil’s fingers ghost over the small of Dan’s back, almost dangerously close the the waistline of his sweatpants.

 

Dan’s heart is beating faster than it should be and he’s sure that Phil can feel it, though he doesn’t bring it up. Phil’s hands push their way up the back of Dan’s T-shirt before Dan can tell him to stop, his fingertips no longer gently pressing into his back, it was his fingernails, scraping shapes into his pale skin. Dan holds back a whine, arching his spine to press further into Phil’s hands.

 

Dan leans back, regretfully abandoning the head-on-Phil’s-shoulder pose, and looks at Phil, watching his azure eyes shine back at his, they’re glinted with flecks of yellow and green, but the blue most prominent of all. Dan’s breath catches in his throat when Phil’s hands slide down to Dan’s waist, holding him there with a gentle but commanding touch.

 

Dan doesn’t feel drawn to even glance out the window towards the darkened sky, because stars danced in Phil’s gaze, drawing him there instead.

 

Dan doesn’t pause to ask; ‘What are we?’, he doesn’t pause to see if Phil’s okay with it. He doesn’t pause to talk to his friend. He just kisses him. He numbly feels Phil kissing him back, gentle pecks at first easily escalating into heated making out.

 

Phil doesn’t tell him to stop and Dan doesn’t make any move to pull away.

 

Skin on skin.

 

Everything is laced with electricity, Phil’s tongue like lightning bolts inside of Dan’s mouth, on Dan’s neck, red flowers bloom on their skin, an artwork created by lust.

 

The world doesn’t exist. All that’s left to Dan is Phil. _Phil,_ he’s everywhere. All around him, holding him, caressing him, touching him.

 

Dan can taste stars in his mouth, infatuated by Phil’s body underneath him.

 

It was desperate and messy but neither of them wanted to stop.

 

-

 

They’re tangled up together in Phil’s bed the next morning, neither of them wanting to move even though Phil had to go to a class and Dan was supposed to go see Dodie.

 

Dan wants to ask Phil what they are to one another. Friends? Boyfriends? Nothing? But he stays silent. He’s not sure what is fueling the silence, his mouth just refused to open to express his feelings.

 

When Phil wakes up, he presses half-asleep kisses to Dan’s collar bones and neck, tracing the bruises left over from last night with his fingertips, the cold of his skin soothing the dull pain that ached through Dan’s body.

 

Phil pulls himself out of bed, telling Dan that he’s going to go draw a bath for them.

 

Dan simply nods. He doesn’t know how to think or act and he wishes that he could go look at the stars but the sun is up, blotting out the lights in the sky.

 

Phil comes back a couple of minutes later, lacing his fingers through Dan’s and tugging him out of bed, leading him down the short hall to the bathroom. Dan follows without hesitation.

 

Phil asks if it’s alright to share a bath but they both already know that the answer is going to be a very definite yes. Dan confirms their thoughts, letting Phil step into the warm water first, then slid between Phil’s legs, pressing his back up against Phil’s bare chest. Phil can feel Dan’s muscles, taunt against Phil’s stomach, showing his discomfort.

 

The water is almost overflowing, and at any other time, Dan would have been completely relaxed.

 

It was _Phil._ Only Phil. He had no reason whatsoever to feel uneasy, but it was still laced through his every move. He almost wanted to leave, but he couldn’t because this was Phil and he was supposed to be comfortable around Phil. But he wasn’t. Everything was electric, not in a comfortable way. It was the way that sent shivers down his spine, creating as vortex of missing emotions.

 

He takes a deep breath, letting his hands float to the surface of the water.

 

He pulls away from Phil when he starts kissing the back of his neck and his shoulders.

 

He can feel Phil’s concerned eyes burning into his back. He sits on the edge of the bathtub, wrapping a towel around his shoulders and burying his head in his hands, taking deep breaths. He hears the water splashing as Phil scrambles up, resting a hand on Dan’s back and softly asking him what’s wrong.

 

He knows what’s wrong. He can read Dan easier than he can read words.

 

But still, he wants to make sure that his thought’s are right. He doesn’t want to assume things. He just rubs small circles into Dan’s back, waiting for Dan to calm himself down.

 

-

 

Dan’s hair is still curly and wet from the bath, an old sweatshirt of Phil’s hanging off his thin frame. He’s pressed into the corner of their sofa, avoiding Phil’s searching eyes.

 

What are we?, Dan asks, trying to keep the tremor of stress out of his voice. He doesn’t miss Phil’s hesitation.

 

I don’t know, Phil responds. He’s speaking the truth, not trying to gloss over anything for the brown-haired boy.

 

Dan wants to go up to the stars. Because everything's so complex down on earth, everything needs labeled and reasons, nothing can just be as simple as a feeling.

 

He remembers how Phil tasted, like starlight dancing on his tongue. He remembers the way that Phil’s fingertips traced over his skin, pressing down and scraping his fingernails across him. He remembers Phil’s body, pressed fluidly against his own.

 

He doesn’t want to let it go.

 

He wants to taste the starlight again.

 

Almost subconsciously, Dan’s body uncurls itself, raising his head to face Phil.

 

A look flashes across Phil’s face that Dan can’t seem to place.

 

We don’t _have_ to be anything, Phil offers, almost like he thinks that Dan doesn’t want a repeat of last night.

 

Dan crawls across the sofa, pressing his body against Phil’s. He pretends that he doesn’t hear the sharp intake of breath, and tilts his head to kiss Phil’s lips. Phil’s hands are under Dan’s sweatshirt, wandering their way around the bruises left on his torso, connecting them like constellations.

 

Dan hopes that his actions are strong enough to show Phil what he wants.

 

Dan catches Phil’s bottom lip between his teeth, pulling it back before letting it snap back into place.

 

Phil pulls away a moment later, a soft smile playing across his lips.

 

I don’t know what I want us to be, Dan says again.

 

Do you want us to be _something_?, Phil asks, a hint of desperation in his tone of voice.

 

Dan nods his head, affirming what Phil’s words said.

 

Stars shine in Phil’s eyes and Dan knows that he doesn’t ever want to let this go.

 

-

 

They’re under the stars, watching the moon’s slow journey across the dark night sky. Their sides are pressed against each others, their fingers laced together. The stars felt warm, turning Dan’s heart into one of fire, holding love for his surroundings.

 

His gaze is filled with light, reflecting life back out to the world.

 

He turns his head to look at Phil, his black hair a little bit too long, framing his pale face.

 

He never wants to move; because _this_ is what home feels like.

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! I really do hope that you liked it. 
> 
> If you did like is, pls leave a comment they're v nice.


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